What If
by Jocelyn Ralph
Summary: Captain Hook/Wendy grown up . A "what if" story in an alternate reality in which Wendy, John and Michael join Hook on the Jolly Roger. It's called What If because I'm generally no good at titling stories.
1. Chapter 1

Wendy glanced about the Jolly Roger, and saw familiar faces going about their duties. Her brothers John and Michael were busy scrubbing the deck, along with Smee. Her scowl deepened as she regarded the condition of the ship. She could not imagine how it had become so dingy and dirty in her brief time away. Years of her scolding ought to have taught them better. _Ah! Well_, she thought in growing amusement, there would be worse anger than hers, soon: the Captain would return shortly hence.

She smiled to herself. Oh, how she revered him, whom all others feared (except Peter Pan). She had learned everything she knew from the dark man. Of course, her temperament was less hostile than his, but had grown close to him. Closer than anyone could get to the miserably obsessed pirate. Only Wendy could accomplish friendship with both Peter Pan and his nemesis Captain Hook.

Her luxurious hair floated in the warm sea breeze. She was all grown up, something she had once believed to be undesirable. For, though her proximity to the Neverland slowed the aging process, the Jolly Roger often left the seas surrounding the isle, and she matured, however slowly that had been.

Movement caught her eyes. "Hoy there, gents!" She commanded their attention with harsh tones and an ever deepening glare. The three were making their way down to the kitchen. "No food until the condition of this ship pleases me," she commanded wickedly, grinning at their despairing groans. "Smee, be a dear and run down and fetch a pitcher of water for me, I'm so dreadfully parched." Smee nodded, and scurried off to do her bidding. John and Michael grumbled incoherently. They both knew better than to complain to her. She tapped her fingernails on the dark wood of the ship in satisfaction.

"Mother..." came the quiet voice of Smee from behind her. She turned and gladly accepted the pitcher and glass from him. As a reward, she patted the top of his head, kissed his forehead and flashed him a brilliant smile. Something that might have been a shy grin spread across his face and disappeared quickly, for she had begun to frown at his dallying. Still frowning, she was smugly amused at the change she had inflicted in the little man. She poured a glass of water, drank it quickly, and poured another. She dumped the rest of the water on her head, reveling as the cool water dripped down her face, neck, and blouse.

Wendy was a harsh taskmistress, but the short hours after her arrival seemed to pass by quickly. The Captain returned near the third hour after noon. Wendy waited for the shouting which would shortly ensue.

"Smee!" Came a deep growl from the main cabin.

"Yes, Cap'in?" Smee's face blanched as the tall, dark figure of Captain James Hook approached him threateningly.

"Why is my cabin in such a dismal state?" He demanded malevolently.

"The blame is mine, sir," Wendy said, chagrined. "It seems I've not taught them well enough, for while we were away, they took to dilly-dallying." The only show of displeasure that showed upon her lovely face was in her eyes. None of the crewmen dared looked at her. "It would seem, Captain, that I haven't disciplined them adequately," she remarked quietly.

"Nonsense, girl." He glared about maliciously at his crew. "Tell me, Smee, what are you?" He cast an icy glare at the little bald man.

"Lazy wretches, Cap'in?"

"Yes! Now get back to work, all of you, before I cast anchor in you!" He commanded in a low growl. He turned to Wendy, offering her his arm. She took it, and he led her back to his cabin.

He sat her down in a cushioned chair and poured her a cup of wine before reclining in his own chair. They sat discussing ship's business until the sun's remaining light was fading. They turned to more important discussion while they ate dinner.

When she had joined the pirates, she suggested that they change tactics, and hunt the redskins, rather than the lost boys. The redskins were better trackers, and while they might be harder to follow than the lost boys, in the long run it would make finding the lost boys easier. "Now, tell me what you discovered of the redskins," he demanded, his blue eyes glittering with a wicked glee that frightened all but her, who was merely entranced by them.

She sipped her wine before answering. "We found an empty camp, but no trace of where they might have gone. We burned what was left there." She sighed and took a sip of the wine. She saw over the rim of her cup the Captain fingering his hook, and scowl contorting his handsome face. He drove his hook into desk. Wendy did not flinch at the sudden outburst, and waited until the desk no longer shook to put her glass down. She rose and circled the table. Coming up behind his chair, she wrapped her lovely arms around his shoulders. "We'll just have to keep looking," she said coolly into his ear.

His pale eyes regarded her with cold malice for a moment. Then he smiled slightly and nodded, excusing her. She drained her cup, and set it back on the desk. Regarding him once before she left his cabin, her eyes dark and sultry, she ducked out.


	2. Chapter 2

Wendy exited the Captain's cabin, her thoughts whirling. Seeking to halt them, she inspected the deck. The work she had put John, Michael and Smee too had progressed more than she had anticipated. In fact, they were nearly finished, and well in line with her standards. They quickly finished and she glanced around the ship, inspecting every nook and cranny. She turned abruptly to the three figures behind her, who flinched at her sudden movement. Casting her critical eyes upon them, she waited, increasing their suspense of her response. She grinned her approval, and put her arms behind her back. "Good work. You may refresh yourselves in the kitchen. Then it's off to bed," she commanded.

"But I'm not sleepy..." Michael muttered in protest, and then yelped when Wendy gave him a hard swat on his rear.

She made her way to her cabin, which was second largest on the ship. She removed the gold earrings from her ears, the trousers and blouse she wore, and put her sleeping clothes on (which was nothing more than a shirt that only came down to the middle of her thighs).

She sat near the window of her room for a while a read by the lamp there. The Captain, having been a gentleman of sorts (before his pirating day began), kept books on a shelf in his cabin, which she frequently borrowed. She reclined for a while, and began to doze. Movement in her cabin woke her, and she glanced about, grabbing the knife strapped, at all times, to her ankle. Holding it before her, she stood.

"Who are you," she demanded at a small shadow approaching her. As the figure came closer, it took a familiar shape, and she hissed. "Peter!"

"Wendy?" came the small boy's voice.

"Peter, what are you doing here?" She whispered, glancing around the room still.

"I heard there was a new pirate aboard the Jolly Roger."

"New? Peter, I've been here for years."

"You're the new pirate?" Peter was aghast.

"Yes, Peter, I thought you knew."

"Wendy, how could you?"

"For many reasons, Peter." She sighed, wondering why she was still talking to the child. She should be shooing him away. "Peter, you should go," she grabbed his hand and shoved him to the door.

"Come with me, Wendy!"

"Peter, I can't. I had my time with you, but that's over. I've grown up, and I have other loyalties now."

"Come with me!"

"Peter, go away, or I will sound the alarm!"

"I'll kill you if you do!"

"I know. That's why I haven't sounded it yet. Peter, I owe you for all the times you saved my life, so go! If you stay any longer, I'll have to sound the alarm, and then you'll have to kill me. I don't want that, and I can tell by your face you don't either."

"Grown-ups talk to much," Peter muttered, at which Wendy gave a little laugh.

Wendy smiled wryly. "No, just women. Peter, go!" She gave him one last shove before he took flight out her window. She didn't have to sound the alarm, for as he shot out of her cabin, he crowed.

She screamed, giving the illusion that she startled awake by Peter's crow. John and Michael plowed into her room, followed by the Captain, who looked very annoyed. She sat at her window clasping a rob the herself, looking very frightened. John knelt by her and began to stroke her head. She swatted him away and told him and Michael to get out, her fake fright melting into real annoyance. John got up, and nodded at the Captain, and left, followed by Michael.

"Pan, he was here wasn't he?"

"It would seem that he was."

"You screamed."

"Yes, I was sleeping, and his crow startled me."

"So, you didn't see him?"

"No, sir, I didn't," she yawned. "Now, if you don't mind, I'd like to go back to bed." She dropped her robe and turned to her bunk, her back to him. Before she got there, he caught her neck with his hand and pulled her close. He pressed his hook hard against her cheek.

"You think I've forgotten that you were his friend, Wendy, but I haven't. If I find that you've lied-" she cut him off.

"Captain, what's past is past. I may have been his friend, but I'm not any longer." She turned to face him, his hand still gripping her neck tightly, hook still against her cheek. "You've nothing to worry about my loyalties, sir." She lifted her eyes to his. "If I had known that he was here, do not doubt I would have sounded the alarm." The hook slid from her cheek to under her chin, tilting her head up. Those cold blues searched hers, looking for the lie he would not find. He released her and stepped back. Wendy sighed and sat on the edge of her bunk, her eyes on the retreating figure of the Captain.

"Good night, captain," she murmured, wiggling into her covers. His eyes lingered a few moments on her before turning back to the door, flinging his arm in a dismissive wave.

Wendy did not go right sleep. The incident weighed heavily on her mind. She was unnerved by the confrontation with her once-friend-now-enemy. She eventually drifted off into a fitful sleep that gave her no rest.


	3. Chapter 3

"You think I don't remember that you were his friend, Wendy, but I haven't. If I find that you've lied-" she cut him off.

"Captain, what's past is past. I may have been his friend, but I'm not any longer." She turned to face him, his hand still gripping her neck tightly, and hook against her cheek. "You've nothing to worry about my loyalties, sir." She lifted her eyes to his. "If I had known that he was here, do not doubt I would have sounded the alarm." The hook slid from her cheek to under her chin, tilting her head up. Those cold blues searched her eyes, looking for the lie he would not find. He released her and stepped back. Wendy sighed and sat on the edge of her bunk, her eyes on the retreating figure of the Captain.

"Good night, captain," she murmured, wiggling into her covers. His eyes lingered a few moments on her before turning back to the door, flinging his arm in a dismissive wave. Wendy did not go right sleep. The incident that night weighed heavily on her mind. She was unnerved by the confrontation with her once-friend-now-enemy. She eventually drifted off into a fitful sleep that gave her no rest. When she woke, she took longer than usual to ready herself and start her duties.

She wore a dress, close-fitting, and the length of it torn to just below the knee, and leather sandals. As she walked onto the deck, she was met by strange looks from the crewmen, including her brothers. She raised her head high and growled, "What are you lot staring at?" They lowered their gazes. "Get back to work, you scamps!"

She went down to the galley to being preparing breakfast for the ship's crew, Captain first. As she worked, she hummed a sea-song she learned at a port, somewhere she couldn't quite remember that she sung to John and Michael now and then, when she was feeling truly motherly. She wondered at that. All her tasks aboard 

the Jolly Roger were motherly, yet she rarely felt like a mother. While she had some affection for the crewmen, it could hardly be called motherly. She sighed as she cut fruit into small pieces.

Her thoughts turned over in her head, and she couldn't help but mull over memories that Peter's visit brought up. She hardly expected the boy to remember why she left him, and her brothers, also. She left because the Lost Boys didn't really need her. They were quite capable of cleaning up after themselves, they really never listened to her stories very well, and they never used the pockets she sewed into their pants. They were boys who refused to grow up, and therefore had no reason for mothers or parents of any sort.

The pirates were different. They never thought to clean up after themselves, being rather preoccupied with fear of the enigmatic Hook. That day she first boarded the Jolly Roger as a captive, she was appalled at the ship's condition. Further, she was fascinated by the dark Captain. She rather envied the boys' offer to a position on the ship, while she was only bade to say farewell to her children.

The pirates were so moved by her farewell, they (even Smee) begged the Captain to let her remain on the ship, and to be their mother. Hook pondered a moment, and decided that it would be a blow to Pan, and therefore of use to him, and he allowed it. She laughed, but considered. "I'll join you only if you let the boys go back to Peter." At this John and Michael protested that they would stay where Wendy stayed, and she amended her proposition. "I'll stay if the boys may go back to Peter, and John and Michael stay with me." To this Hook grudgingly agreed. He saw good form in it.

Wendy finished preparing breakfast, and headed for the Captain's cabin. As she 

passed the crew, she became aware of their hungry faces. "No breakfast until your morning chores are done." She reminded them. Most of the crew went about the Captain's business during the day, but in the morning, Wendy had them doing small chores, so that those who remained behind wouldn't have to do everything. John and Michael and Smee were usually the ones who stayed behind, unless the Captain especially needed either of them.

She rapped on the cabin door and waited for a response. The Captain was always awake before her, so she didn't have long to wait for the answer. She entered as her opened the door, and set the trey on his table. As she poured him his drink, he screwed on the hook he was so famous for. Her faced blanched as she watched, for it always looked like painful business.


End file.
